


Showtime

by TheThousandBeanster



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, Including dicks on chariots, Mara why, Persona 5 Spoilers, Warning: everything that's in persona 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:52:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11513502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThousandBeanster/pseuds/TheThousandBeanster
Summary: By day, I am Kurusu Akira, an ordinary, glasses-wearing schoolgirl. At night (ok, afternoon, whatever) I am Joker, leader of the phantom thieves. Together with my crew, I fight crime that otherwise remains unfought due to the apathy of society. Or rather, we vent our frustrations on cognitive manifestations of evil within people's heart. Helping people is a nice bonus.





	Showtime

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is honestly mostly practice to get myself used to actually doing something with my life. Even so, I hope you guys can apreciate it for what it is and give constructive criticism in comments.  
> It's an idea that I've often seen lately but hopefully my Akira's "voice" will feel unique enough for this story to stand out.

I awaken to the cold and unfriendly feeling of icy water being splashed across my face. Slowly opening my eyes, I find myself faced with a dimly lit room, the angry red glare of a camera and three stern-looking men in business suits looking at me.

"No dozing off."

Scratch that last remark, it's three downright aggressive men. Panic starts to set in as I struggle against the handcuffs that I only just now noticed. The man in front speaks again.

"You still don't get it, do you?"

He takes a second to aim and releases a kick straight into my midsection, knocking me right off the chair and hard on the ground. I cough as pain blossoms anew in my stomach and around my right shoulder, courtesy of the damned handcuffs keeping my hands awkwardly behind me. I don't get even a second to think before his boot presses hard on my head, painfully crushing my ear and grinding my face in the puddle left behind by the water they used to wake me up.

"Come on, cooperate. Or what, you want another shot?"

Damn it, I can't seem to think straight. What happened, and how did I even get in this situation?

My eyes drift over to the camera in the corner of the room. They're even filming all this, huh?

The man standing over me must have noticed my gaze, as he turns to look at the same camera.

"Huh? What about the camera?" He asks, with a somewhat mocking tone.

He takes his foot off my head and squats down to my level before grabbing my hair and roughly pulling on it so that I face him.

"Are you thinking it can be used as video evidence?" He asks, threatening as ever.

Heh... Of course not. My mind may be a foggy mess right now, but I know the law is definitely not on my side. This recording will never get to court.

I must have taken too long to answer, because the angry jackass in a suit throws my head back on the floor and gets up.

"Didn't you hear my question? Answer!"

As if to punctuate his last word, his boot once again meets my stomach. Hard. I can't help but cough and sputter at the impact on my already damaged belly. He really doesn't hold back, does he? I guess "criminal" overrides "high school girl" to him. That, or he's just that big of a dick. Or, most likely, a bit of both.

Asshole McSuitpants turns on his heel to retrieve a clipboard from dickhead #2 and starts listing off crimes.

"Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons..." He stops for a moment, then casually adds "Manslaughter too, yeah? Talk about the works."

That's bullshit! There is absolutely no way I did that! Then again, my memory is a scrambled mess right now, so I can't say for sure. Still, I want to believe that I'm no murderer.

"To think that all those crimes were led by a punk like this... " He continues, oblivious to my inner struggle, "And you seemed to be enjoying every second of it... Huh?"

Was I enjoying... whatever I was doing? I still can't remember for sure, but I can actually believe that. I can be a cocky little shit when I'm not getting beaten up under a police station. Is that where we are? I just assumed... Or did I know?

I am pulled out of my thoughts when my handcuffs are removed and I am roughly lifted off the floor only to be thrown right back on my ass. As I check the bruises that formed around my wrists, the lead guy approaches me with his clipboard.

"Sign here." He says, showing me the clipboard. "It's a confession under your name."

A confession for all the stuff he mentioned earlier, right? I'm seriously tempted to reject it. I have at least that much fight left in me. However, I must be realistic about this. Should I refuse, the guy will just keep beating me up until I give in or fall unconscious. I can't remember why, but my gut is screaming at me to not let that happen, as it would be the end of everything. My chances of resisting their assault are... null. I am woozy and badly hurt, there are three of them to one of me and they are all significantly larger. Better to conserve my energy for a fight I can actually win.

I speak for the first time since awakening. "I understand..." It comes out raspy, weak, and overall pathetic. Though it chafes at my pride, it's probably for the best. The more broken I sound, the more likely they are to leave me be.

The man in front of me gives me the clipboard and pulls a pen out of his breast pocket. He leans in really close and speaks in a low tone.

"Don't expect to walk out of here in one piece. We're going to make you understand that one must take full responsibility for their actions."

Hearing a guy who tortures confessions out of people say that kind of pisses me off, but I have to bite it down and feign resignation for now. For just a moment, I'm tempted to write a fake name on the confession, but that wouldn't work. They must have identified me already, they just need my signature.

Kurusu Akira... Done. He snatches the clipboard and pencil from me the moment I am done writing and leaves wordlessly, followed by his two silent cronies. Finding myself alone, I finally have time to order my thoughts. Now, what happened? How did I find myself in this situation?

With intense concentration, I recall vague memories. A flashy casino... Guards turning into monsters... Escape... A police ambush... The impact of the butt of a rifle, followed by a long fall... And suddenly, clear as day, the last words spoken to me before I was cuffed.

"You have your teammate to blame for this. You were sold out."

Sold out, huh? Despite the shocking nature of this information, it doesn't come across as a surprise to me. Maybe the reality of it just hasn't hit me yet. A lot of the things that I just remembered are really weird, after all.

Taking a look around the dimly lit room, I spot three things. One, there is a small metallic table In the center. Two, my chair is still sitting sideways on the floor next to me. Three, an empty syringe sits discarded on the floor. Come to think of it, that asshole mentioned something about "another" shot. I can't believe I missed that, I must be really off my game. Then again, being heavily drugged would explain a few things, such as my horrible memory.

Well, might as well get comfortable. I pull my chair upright and bring it over to the table to sit down and try to order my thoughts. The moment I sit down, however, I hear muffled voices from the other side of the door. I can't make out what they are saying, but I can definitely hear a woman's voice.

A few moments later, the door opens to allow a single woman - presumably the same I heard through the door - in. Silvery-grey hair, despite looking otherwise in her early twenties. Her suit and heels give her a powerful countenance. I definitely feel as if I have met this woman before.

She sits across from me, looking mildly surprised. "I didn't expect it'd be you." She lets out, seemingly more to herself than anything else. Her gaze quickly focuses back on me. "You'll be answering my questions this time."

Her hard, red eyes finally jogs my memory. Niijima... Sae, was it? I feel like the name "Niijima" should remind me of something else but I'm drawing a blank at the moment. Feeling terrible about it too, somehow.

Uncaring of my inner struggle, the prosecutor catches sight of the discarded syringe on the floor. I can barely hear her commenting on "these bastards" under her breath before she leans toward me. "Can you hear me? It seems you have been through a lot." I give a quick nod, not trusting my voice quite yet. "Almost anything can happen here... And I can't stop them. That's why I need you to answer me honestly. I don't have much time, either." She continues on without input on my part. " What was your objective? Why did you cause such a major incident?" I still can't remember much about any incident, but whatever it was, it was probably way less deliberate than she makes it sound. "I didn't think it was a prank from the get-go, but I couldn't assemble a case for prosecution. It's because I couldn't figure out the method behind it."

I speak up for the second time since awakening. "But you have a case now, Niijima-san." My voice is still raspy but noticeably steadier than last time. "Those guys from earlier just got done extracting a written confession out of me. That's enough for any court, isn't it?" I can't fully keep the scorn out of my voice when I mention the courts. "So why do you still want to know?"

She briefly shakes her head at me and says "This is not a matter of whether or not it can be used in court. I simply have to know the truth. It is my case, after all." I suppose I can respect that. "It seems you're coherent.", she concludes before diving into the main reason for our conversation. "When and where did you find out about that world? How is it even possible to steal another's heart? Now, tell me your account of everything. Start from the very beginning."

The very beginning, huh? This will be difficult, given my current mental abilities...

Huh?

A.. butterfly? What is it doing in here?

"...You are held captive."

No shit.

"A prisoner of fate to a future that has been sealed in advance."

Still, this voice feels somewhat familiar...

"This is truly an unjust game... Your chances of winning are almost none. But if my voice is reaching you, there may be a possibility open to you..."

Those words.

I heard them once before, at another time when all hope seemed lost.

"...I beg you. Please overcome this game... and save the world..."

I don't know about saving the world, but if there is a way out of this situation, I'm willing to try it, no matter how much of a long shot it is.

"The key to victory lies within the memories of your bonds-the truth that you and your friends grasped. It all began that day... when the game was started half a year ago..."

Half a year ago... When the game was started? Said like that, there is only one day she could be talking about.

"For the sake of this world's future... as well as your own... you must remember."

I do remember. Clearer than I thought, too. The day my new life began, around mid-April...


End file.
